All I Want
by some pierrot
Summary: Oikawa has a silly way of showing he cares. He likes to give Hajime candy, the little bugs he collected, his favorite things. His 'treasures'. The things he loved. And Hajime accepts them, because why not? Oikawa likes it and he likes the things Oikawa likes. He loves the things Oikawa loves. "Ushiwaka-chan, you know I love you, right?" Iwaizumi/Oikawa/Ushijima threesome fic.


this is iwaizumi's chapter. there'll be one for each of them i think.

anyway, something small and less ambitious to celebrate the holidays. hope everyone is having a nice winter = w=~

* * *

><p>"Iwa-chan, I love you."<p>

"Don't call me that," is all he says, and as he stares at the girl, as she looks at him like he just broke her heart, all he can think is that Oikawa doesn't deserve this. He can't figure out why Oikawa even liked this girl, why _he_ even liked this girl.

She was the furthest they had ever gotten. A pervert, if Hajime had to be asked, but she had taken to the idea of a threesome all too easily. He didn't really understand what Oikawa in her. She liked to play coy in bed and her moaning sounded fake.

But Oikawa liked her and so Hajime did too.

Until now. Until she started to say "Iwa-chan" like Oikawa did, until she started to come over when Oikawa wasn't around. Until she'd press herself against him and give him kisses on his throat. She used to do that to Oikawa.

"I'll break up with him," she says, "I want to be with you, Iwa-chan."

"I said, don't call me that."

"Why not? It's cute, like you."

He's getting a headache now. It's starting up behind his eyes and every time she speaks in this high-pitched falsetto voice that he's never noticed before now, it throbs with a hot lance of pain. "Shut up," he says, "You make me want to throw up."

She stops speaking abruptly and she draws back like he slapped her. That's a good idea. He raises a hand like he's about to, and she shrinks back, stumbling against the counter.

"Get out," he growls again, "Don't you fucking dare come back. Don't call either of us. Just get out."

"Iwa-chan," he says as soon as Hajime opens the door, "What did Mari-chan do?"

Hajime drops the doorknob, letting Oikawa catch it and let himself in. He ignores the question. "You have a key, since when don't you knock?"

"Are you mad or something?" He shuffles out of his shoes, leaves them messy, pads after Hajime back into the living room. "She didn't even return my calls, you must've really scared her. I just want to know, what did she do?"

He doesn't want to say. If he says, he knows the only person hurt will be Oikawa. Not that shitty girl and her nauseating perfume. Not him, the unnecessary third person.

Just Oikawa.

He turns on the tv instead, shifting away when Oikawa slides onto the couch beside him and touches his arm.

"Iwa-chan, tell me."

He meets Oikawa's eye. And when he speaks, it's quickly, the words coming out in a rush. "She wanted to break up with you. She was talking about it with me. I got angry and told her to get out."

Oikawa's face changes a little, an almost imperceptible tightening around his lip. "She wanted to break up with me?"

Hajime grunts.

They watch as some comedian on screen gets slapped in the face by another. Neither of them are watching.

"How long has she been in love with you, Iwa-chan?"

He doesn't know how Oikawa does that sort of thing. How he always seems to just _know._ It's not worth it to try and pretend otherwise. "She didn't say," he answers truthfully. "It's not like I waited to get all the facts before I threw her out, idiot."

Oikawa laughs a little and he manages to make it sound less forced than it is. But Hajime knows better and he reaches out to place a hand on Oikawa's head as the tears start to fall; fat, heavy drops that roll down Oikawa's cheeks and plop on his couch.

This is the part he hates, because none of Oikawa's relationships ever work out. Not when there's an unnecessary third person who throws a stick in the gears and ruins the dynamics. He's not sure if he's talking about himself, or if he's talking about Oikawa's boyfriends and girlfriends, the endless list of people smitten with Oikawa Tooru.

Oikawa loves too easily though, that much he does know. He accepts all of the people who throw themselves at him and that's something Hajime's never understood.

Sometimes though, Hajime thinks that he would be fine if it were just the two of them. He doesn't need anyone really; Oikawa is enough trouble as it is. He loves too easily and always ends up hurt.

* * *

><p>"Do you remember Ushijima Wakatoshi?" he asks one morning, and a face pops into Hajime's head. Ushijima was a somber boy sitting a couple rows in front of them, the one who looked back over his shoulder a little too often as they sat in class. But that was high school, and it's been nearly eight years. The fact he still remembers is a miracle.<p>

He sneezed, "The guy with the angry brows? What about him?" He watches Oikawa in the mirror as the boy rubs gel on his palms.

"Iwa-chan, take a look in the mirror sometime. You have angry brows too." He runs his fingers through his hair before continuing, "So I ran into him at the supermarket yesterday."

There's a point to this. There always is a point when it comes to Oikawa, even if it's something as inane as trying to piss Hajime off. It's just a matter of having the patience to wait for it. He runs his toothbrush under the spout, squirts a dollop of toothpaste, and brushes his teeth steadily, going from the left back all the way around, watching Oikawa in the mirror still.

Finally, the brown-haired boy rubs gel off his fingers and washes his hands in the sink. "Well, turns out he's loved me since high school, can you believe it?"

Hajime chokes, and a speck of toothpaste goes soaring, landing on the mirror right where his eye would be. He spits out before he coughs any more, taking his time gargling as Oikawa laughs and cleans the mirror.

"Was it that surprising, Iwa-chan?"

He glares through teary eyes, still bent over the sink as he washes the last of the soap out with water. When he rises, he meets Oikawa's eye once more. It wasn't that surprising. Shouldn't have been. He just wasn't expecting Ushijima to have the guts to finally voice his feelings. They were obvious to everyone; even Oikawa knew. But eight years is a long-ass time. "So?"

"So what?"

_So what did you tell him?_ "So is that all you wanted to say?"

"Yup, that's about it."

Hajime is tempted to smack that shit-eating grin right off his handsome face. But it's only seven in the morning and much too early for that kind of violence. He wipes his lips with his wrist. "Just don't tease him. You better hurry up before you're late."

"Iwa-chan, hold on!"

He stops long enough for Oikawa to press a thumb to his cheek, whisper a minty "have a good day, Iwa-chan," against his ear, and rub away a smudge of toothpaste he missed. Their eyes meet in the mirror again, and Oikawa grins.

The topic of Ushijima Wakatoshi doesn't come up again until a couple weeks later, when Hajime is lying on the couch with a pizza brochure in hand, trying to decide between four cheese fondue and mushroom delight.

"Asskawa, what do you want?"

Oikawa pops his head out of the bedroom. 'What was that?"

"Cheese or mushroom?" He holds up the flyer.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? I have a date tonight." He steps fully into view now and treats Hajime to his carefully chosen outfit, slacks rolled up around his ankles, a white blazer over a light blue shirt. Hajime sits up slowly, because that's a telling outfit, the one he wears when he's interested.

He wants to ask. _How long has it been? _ _Who are you going with? When was this decided? How serious are you?_

He doesn't bother. "Oh, say something earlier then, idiot. Do me a favor and take out the trash when you go."

After he eats his half of the pizza and puts the rest in the fridge, he's the one taking out the trash, the crumpled pizza box sitting disjointedly at the top of the bag. It's warm outside, even at night, but the fresh air feels better than the stale air of the apartment and he lingers a little while, taking a flight of stairs past some single-story houses to the park at the top of the hill. There's a vending machine in the park too; it lights up when he approaches and starts some catchy beverage jingle when he puts in coins.

He likes summer. He likes the sound of the cicadas in the trees, the precious breeze through the open windows. He likes the smell of the mosquito punk, smoking by the bed and the wind chime hanging outside on the balcony that Oikawa brought back for him from his last trip home.

Even though Tokyo's so much hotter than up in Sendai, it's not as bad as he thought. They went the cheaper route, renting an apartment nestled up against the backside of a park, right on top of a high hill. Oikawa complained all the time—"You can't call them _convenience_ stores if I have to catch a bus just to find one, Iwa-chan."—but Hajime likes it so much better than somewhere deep in the city. He feels like suffocating there, and even though Oikawa thrives on that sort of thing, he knows Oikawa would never come around if he didn't like it also.

But above all, he likes the view. If you climb the steps of the temple and came out into the playground, there was a clearing by the trees with a little stone bench that gave a perfect view of the city. The houses spread out in all directions and beyond that, the buildings and lights glimmered. It made him feel distant, like he was standing on some faraway planet and watching the earth through a giant magnifying glass.

He knows it's Oikawa's favorite place to go and almost by default, that made it Hajime's as well. They shared everything and though he couldn't really say when that started—if he had to say, it was probably from the moment they met—he did understand why. Everyone called Oikawa selfish, but Hajime knew better.

For as long as he could remember, Oikawa has a silly way of showing he cares. "I want to share things with you," he'd say, and then he'd proceed to press things into Hajime's hands, be it half-eaten hard candy drops or pretty, glossy-winged dead beetles or pictures of his fat, old, cranky cat that absolutely hated Hajime's guts for no good reason at all. Every time Oikawa wants to "share", Hajime remember those words. And even though he knows this crosses the line of friendship (the same way the good morning kisses do), he can't quite say no when it happens.

Like the time a tiny Oikawa offered him chocolates from his Valentine's Day stash—"Iwa-chan, this has to be the best chocolates I've ever had. Say _aahhh_". Like when he started to read aloud an entire chapter from a horrible romance novel during his busiest studying period—"Iwa-chan, listen to this: 'One look was all it took and he became a prisoner of love'. That's so beautiful."

Like that time, when Oikawa lifted his head from Hajime's stomach in the middle of a tv program and said quietly, "Iwa-chan, you know, I'd share my girlfriend with you if you wanted."

He had asked what that meant, but perhaps he had already known. _"I just want to share the things I love with you."_

It's a weird way of showing affection probably, but Hajime doesn't know any other way. They had been together since they were practically four years old, ever since Oikawa moved into the house across the street. Sometimes Hajime thinks they've been together for so long the line between them blurs. That they're nearly the same person, just inhabiting two different bodies. Oikawa is a part of him, and he's a part of Oikawa.

Oikawa was the one who showed him this lookout spot, after two months of putting up with Hajime's growing bad mood thanks to homesickness. This is Oikawa's favorite spot, and by default, it's Hajime's too.

He heads there now, feet picking out the path without trouble in the dark, the can of soda cold in his palm. But when he reaches the top he can hear voices and he slows his steps until he can see through the trees, squinting to make out the silhouette of a couple on his bench.

Oikawa's rubbing off on him he thinks, as he dares to take a few steps closer, mostly out of curiosity. What did high schoolers talk about late at night like this? Where they sneaking out? Was this some sort of illicit tryst?

He can report back to Oikawa later, tell him laughingly about the so-called drama teenagers thought they faced.

But as he gets closer, as the voices separated into two, as one starts to sound more familiar, a tight feeling starts building up in the pit of his stomach and he knows he shouldn't have come.

"I still can't believe we meet like that. Those must be some pretty amazing odds. Unless you were stalking me, of course. Were you stalking me, Ushiwaka-chan?"

He can recognize Oikawa's voice anywhere; that lilt is unmistakable. So is that nickname too, but Ushijima doesn't reply and Hajime catches himself paused mid-sip, listening.

"Oh really, Ushiwaka-chan? You love me that much?"

He shouldn't keep listening, but he can't seem to get himself to move. He crouches instead, behind a tree, leaning against the rough bark and staring at the stars through the leaves.

A reply does come this time, after a telling pause. "I do."

Hajime takes a sip, careful not to make any noise. From this vantage point, all he can see is Ushijima's broad shoulders and Oikawa's slender ones. The bench is too small for the both of them and their outlines are nearly touching.

He's listening for Oikawa's response he realizes, the taste of grape soda on his lips. His legs are getting cramped and he's already starting to feel sticky in the humid night air.

"Hmmmm, I would never have guessed." Oikawa is quiet for a moment, then he laughs, the soft sound right before he says a half-truth sugarcoated with a joke. "So, how far are you willing to go for me?"

"Anywhere," comes the prompt reply, and Hajime knows he's overstayed his welcome.

He gets back to his feet and starts off back down the path when a voice calls out, "Iwa-chan? What are you doing here?"

At the sound of his name he turns back. He can sense their eyes on him better than he can see them, and it makes him strangely uncomfortable. He bites back the urge to retort, settling for something dismissive and cool. "I didn't know you were here. Sorry to bother."

Oikawa's silhouette stands. "Don't worry, we were about to go too, weren't we? Wait for me, Iwa-chan."

_Why should I?_ he nearly says. He holds his tongue as the lumbering shadow stands as well, coming to join him on the path.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Oikawa says as they get close, and Hajime's vaguely aware of an arm slipping around his shoulders. Oikawa smells nice, he's put on cologne for the occasion too, and there's the smell of wine on his breath. "Iwa-chan, you remember Ushiwaka-chan, right?"

He scratches the back of his head, sucking on the soda pooling on the rim of the can. "Mmm," he says after a while, "How can I forget?"

"Ushiwaka-chan, you remember Iwa-chan, don't you? He was in the same class with us."

Ushijima is just staring at him, and the expression on his face is as aggravatingly condescending as Hajime remembers. Then he opens his lips and says in that dry voice, "Good evening, Iwaizumi-san."

Hajime can't figure out for the life of him what Oikawa sees in this guy. It's like he's forgotten all of the shit Ushijima had put him through, all the ways he killed himself during high school just to come close to the shadow Ushijima threw. Maybe Oikawa's forgotten, that could be all it is.

Maybe Oikawa's forgotten, but Hajime hasn't.

He realizes he hasn't spoken yet when both pairs of eyes are watching him for a response. He takes a slow sip of his soda, looking from Ushijima's blank face to Oikawa's expectant one. Oikawa's going to pay for this later. He meets Ushijima's eye and nods once in greeting before slipping out from under Oikawa's arm. "Don't be too noisy," is all he says, turning to go back home.

Oikawa makes no move to stop him and he can hear the man speaking in a voice just loud enough for him to hear, "You're coming too, Ushiwaka-chan, right?"

Ushijima's voice is too low for Hajime to hear, but he knows they start following him because he can hear Oikawa picking up the threads of their conversation before he had interrupted, chattering on about something or other, his voice punctuated by soft, flirtatious laughter that's making the back of his neck itch badly.

He walks a little faster to give them some space, throwing the half-empty can into the first recycling bin he sees. He avoids the elevator and takes the steps, two at a time, pulling the door shut behind him, catching his breath. The soda turns bitter on his tongue and his mouth is filled with a sour taste.

For a moment, he considers leaving again, going to the only place open at this hour, but all they serve is ramen (not even good kind) and the thought of more oily food makes him feel a little nauseous. Anything would probably be better than sitting around his apartment while Oikawa and Ushijima are there. But for some reason, when they come in and he hears them clattering around in the hallway, he's pretending to be absorbed in some magazine; an impossible feat considering it's something gossipy and trashy that Oikawa's picked up.

He's not fooling anyone.

The last thing he wants is to seem invested in what happens with Oikawa. It's not a matter of Oikawa dating—Hajime has suffered through more than enough broken hearts for that to have become inconsequential—but it's _Ushijima_. It's just...all he wants is confirmation that this encounter won't end with his best friend in tears like all the other times.

Except when they come in, Oikawa's leading Ushijima by the hand and he's glowing and the speech Hajime's prepared like a good friend withers on his tongue.

They stop beside the couch and Hajime counts to five in his head before he looks up at them with a raised brow. "You need me to leave?" he says.

He's speaking only to Oikawa, his eyes are only for Oikawa. But he can feel Ushijima tense up and a faint smile comes to his lips.

Oikawa smiles back, an unspoken joke between them. "What do you think, Ushiwaka-chan? Does Iwa-chan need to leave?"

In Ushijima's defense, the embarrassment doesn't show on his face. But he shifts from one foot to the other and Hajime watches Oikawa's expression soften. Watches the way Oikawa's smile becomes a little less forced, a little more sincere, the way his eyes change when he looks at Ushijima. _So it's that serious,_ he thinks to himself and he realizes he's not even paying attention to the magazine anymore.

"It was a joke, Ushiwaka-chan, don't worry so much. I actually wanted to introduce you to Iwa-chan, that's all."

"What is this? Like introducing me to your parents?"

Oikawa laughs, dusts something invisible off the taller boy's shoulder, lets his hand linger a little. "In theory it's the same. But Iwa-chan's special to me."

"Special," Ushijima repeats slowly, and there's suspicion creeping onto his face. "Are you two...?"

"Oh no, we're not. But you see, Ushiwaka-chan..."

Hajime's stopped reading completely by now, looking over the top of the magazine at the two. He knows how this conversation goes. He also knows how it turns out, more often than not. But saying any of that isn't going to help.

The line between them blurs sometimes. Oikawa can read Hajime all too easily, but sometimes he seems to forget that Hajime can do the same. Oikawa has a silly way of showing he cares. He likes to give Hajime candy, the little bugs he collected, his favorite things. His 'treasures'. The things he loved.

He sits up, just as Oikawa clasps his hands together and leans in close to Ushijima, speaking loud enough for them all to hear. "Ushiwaka-chan, you know I love you, right?"

* * *

><p>for some reason i've only been able to finish fics with asskawa in them ahhhhhh (￣◇￣;)<p>

anyway, part one of three! will be explicit soon. probs next chapter.


End file.
